Out of the Ashes

By Lorraine Liston

This story is about a young woman (Leah)who marries a farmer (Damian) to experience a new way of life. To begin with her life is everything she had envisaged and she loved her new life. But sadly this did not last and the man she married changed and became someone she didn’t recognise anymore. When an old friend of Damian’s returns to Ryall and Leah’s life is turned upside down as the past comes back to haunt them all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Apr 9, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664104099

Lorraine Liston

My name is Lorraine and I have been writing stories – both short and novels for many years. I love to write and explore ideas which are always coming into my head and when I’m writing nothing else exists for me. This is my third novel – only one has been published. I live in country Victoria with my husband David and I have been doing relief teaching in my spare time. I also love to read and work in my garden which is quite extensive. My husband and I love to go camping and our immediate dream is to see the rest of Australia.

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Copyright © 2021 by Lorraine Liston.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 03/18/2021

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 1

Leah waved as the dark blue commodore moved along the gravel driveway and out of sight. It had been such an enjoyable day and she was already feeling wretched because it was over and she was home. Her friend Anna was the best medicine anyone could ever have and her call that morning saved her from going insane not just from the heat but the endless boredom of an increasing empty life.

Alone in the drive, Leah shuddered as she walked towards the small weathered cottage that she was forced by self-imposed circumstances to call home. Staring at the broken weatherboards on the veranda, she sighed, climbed the steps and reached out and opened the door. The stifling internal heat blasted out causing her to recoil. But there was nothing for it but go in and pretend it was all a terrible dream, which upon consideration made Leah realise her hopelessness. The alternative of staying outside in the heat could not be considered.

‘This is more like a nightmare’, Leah thought to herself as she threw her Piping Hot bag on the couch in the small compact lounge room. ‘I can’t believe that I live in this oven.’ She kicked off her sandals and for a moment stretched her toes on the cool lino leaving sweaty prints as she moved. In the corner of the room there was a small fan and as she padded towards the kitchen, she switched it on. In the nearby kitchen she reached into a cupboard above a cluttered bench for a glass. She could’ve grabbed one from the sink, but there were so many there already and who knew what might have been in them before. From the fridge she poured water into the glass and lowered herself to her favourite seat by the window.

For a few minutes Leah stared out of the dusty window as the sun set in a dazzling rainbow of brilliant reds and oranges. Her pleasure after spending the day with Anna had all but dissipated and an enveloping depression flooded back to haunt her. For Leah the sunset held no beauty. In fact it wearied her. It only served to remind her that she was hot and she did not remember being so hot before. As she gazed at the dry, yellow paddocks beyond her fence and the parched, dead ground which stretched on forever, Leah found herself cursing the never ending summer.

Forcing herself to turn from the bleak view she wondered if it would rain sometime soon. The long awaited autumn had arrived the week before and she along with everyone else in the district held their breath in the hope that the drought would soon be over. In her dreams Leah had pictured endless downpours that washed away the infernal dust that could not be swept or vacuumed out no matter how hard she tried. But reality would arrive the next morning when she gazed outside in the morning to be greeted by the burning, mocking sun. The resulting devastation to Leah caused Damien, her farmer husband to laugh and yell at her not to be so foolish.

This is Australia. This is summer. What do you expect? he had said and left the room. His thoughtlessness mocked her pain.

With yet another sigh Leah brushed a stray lock of auburn hair from her face and attempted to stifle a yawn. She tried so hard to handle the tiredness that shrouded her life but somehow nothing worked and after a while she wondered if she was sick. Every activity seemed so difficult and took so long to complete. Her limbs felt lead lined and too heavy to drag around. At one point during February when the heat was at its worst she had tried sleeping the long, endless hours of the afternoon. She thought if other nations of the world like the Mexicans could do it then perhaps she could. However for Leah there was little chance of sleep as an escape from life because as the sun rose higher all the rooms in the house became so unbearable that sleep in any form was impossible. Too soon Leah realised that nothing would solve her problems and for the first time in her life, she had no idea how to cope with her existence. Thanks to Anna today had been an exception and if it was not for such days she had the feeling that she may not be able to hang on.

The days dragged. They dragged even though she didn’t join them until at least ten. The silence of the house taunted her so she turned on the radio. The stations she could reach were suitable for farmers or those over forty. They told her things she already knew. That petrol prices were on the rise yet again; or that weather was going to be warm again. There was never anything to make her smile. The talk of the drought in Tremayne where she lived went on and on. She knew about its effect on people. Damien told her constantly that if it didn’t break soon he would have to shoot some of their sheep. She had not believed him. She could not imagine that anyone could do that. When she had protested he had looked at her as if she was a child who didn’t know anything. There was also talk of fires but fortunately the summer had been hot but not with the northerly winds and high humidity that were sure recipes for fires.

Their luck to date, Leah hoped, would continue for as long as the heat stayed with them. She took her glass of water and returned to the lounge room. It was a larger room and with the heat resistant curtains drawn and with the fan moving the air slightly she tried to convince herself it was cool.

Leah made herself comfortable on the sofa beside the doorway. She always sat in that space no matter the weather. It was the only piece of furniture in the room that she had chosen and therefore liked. She picked up television guide and glanced at it. She saw that there was news and some game shows. None of these appealed to her. Instead she knelt on the floor and chose a cd and placed it in the player and closed her eyes as the peaceful sounds of the Corrs washed over her.

The last hours of the afternoon dragged on. The Corrs was replaced by other favourites and when the clock in the hall chimed six o’clock Leah stretched. The music stopped and she did not move to change it. She stared at the fire place where her feet were pointing trying to remember when they had last lit a fire. She smiled briefly at the thought. Leah loved winter when the fire burned like a friend to keep you warm. Thinking about it made Leah feel fleetingly felt like the old Leah; the happy carefree Leah who had once found life to be full and entertaining. In recent months she had aged. There were lines around her mouth and her eyes which had not been there before. She thought she looked older than her twenty seven years. Life was no longer happy or carefree and these days there was very little to entertain her.

Leah remembered when she had been a party animal but now felt so out of touch with the world. Her life was one of housework and time she found almost impossible to fill.

‘God this has to be the absolute worst way to live life,’ Leah exclaimed to the four walls that surrounded her. ‘Anyone would think I had no back bone anymore and I’d forgotten how to fight for the things I want or believe in.’ she paused in her ranting and looked around the room. ‘Look at this place! Look at the mess! My mother would die in here. My mother would be so ashamed of this.’ Leah sagged into the couch and felt tears sting her eyes. She was crying. She was talking to herself. What was going to become of her?

She remembered another life time; another Leah who had loved summer; another Leah who had simply loved life. Where had she gone? Why had she gone? Leah had no idea; all she knew was that she was cooped up in this old house tied to a man who hardly seemed to notice her existence anymore. She stood up and began to walk backwards and forwards across the room. Gradually her agitation stalled and she moved to the window that faced the front of the house. She pulled back the heavy velvet curtains and stared at what was left of the garden she had tried to create. It was a devastating site because Leah had tried so hard to make it a pretty place with flowers and vegetables. Her mother had laughed when she had told her about her venture. The reason being her daughter was just not the gardening type. For a start she took great care of her nails; gardening would make a mess of them. Then there was Damien who had been of no help at all. He had managed to find the whole exercise amusing, not ever believing that Leah would keep it up. Of course time and the weather had helped to prove him right and made Leah more depressed.

Now as she looked at the forlorn array of dead stalks and brown leaves, which should have been pansies, snapdragons, tomatoes and corn as well as others, a wave of anger and despair washed over her. She remembered the absolute joy she had felt at the beginning when she had planted her first seedlings, before the drought had arrived and wreaked havoc on her plants. As she watched each plant shrivel and die she vowed that never would she try to do anything to improve the house or the yard again. After five years Leah had finally given up. Damien didn’t help. He lived in his own world. A world he did not share and which she did not or care about.

Leah let the curtains fall into place. The room was instantly gloomy. The clock chimed again. It was time to cook Damien’s evening meal. Leah made her way to the kitchen which seemed to be so much hotter than before. She went to the fridge yet again. The fridge was old like most of the furniture in the house. Most of it had belonged to Damien’s long dead parents and while she knew that they had a good bank balance it was difficult to persuade Damien to spend any of it. His motto was that if it still worked then you didn’t replace it. And so like everything else in the house the old refrigerator remained. It had to work hard and the sound of its labour could be heard quite clearly in the confines of the stuffy room.

Leah had found it hard to adapt to the way Damien lived his life. He liked his meal at six thirty. He liked a stubby with it. He had to have the herald sun close by. He was a creature of habit and while at times Leah had felt the urge to do something outrageous, like serve him his food naked, somehow she just didn’t think it would be worth it because she doubted that he would notice anyway.

The cold air rushed out to her and for a moment she stood for a moment letting it pass over her hot body but she knew that it wasn’t good for the old machine so she fossicked among the shelves for something to cook and closed the door. From a cupboard near the window she collected a large blackened frypan and stood it on the stove which stood next to the sink which was overflowing with dishes that waited to be washed. Hot fat splashed over her hand when she placed the steak in the frypan and Leah cursed softly under her breath.

Leah hated cooking. It was just another chore that had to be done. At school cooking was a subject she had avoided and while her mother had tried to teach her Leah had avoided those lessons too. Instead Leah had worked hard at sport and was a member of most sporting teams at school and university. She was good at tennis and was a successful swimmer. Luckily for Leah, Damien wasn’t in to fancy foods and preferred steak and three veggies most of the time as well as a good roast. Food was something they agreed on. Lately it seemed to Leah that it was the only thing they had in common.

Leah turned the steak.

Cooking wasn’t the only task she had come to loathe. She hated undertaking any household job and it wasn’t because she was lazy. At least she didn’t consider that this was the case. Perhaps it was the house. It was so old and never looked as if anyone cared about it. Damien didn’t complain but then again he was in it so rarely these days that Leah doubted that he even noticed. He never helped either. She doubted if he even knew where the tea towels were. He’d told her at the beginning of their marriage that it wasn’t his job to work in the house. He’d done enough housework after his parents had died. Six years was more than enough for him.

Leah added the left over vegetables to the frypan. The aroma of cooking food wafted around the space.

As the food cooked Leah gazed around the room. The walls were in desperate need of a paint job. The vinyl on the floor was faded and torn at various places. The pattern was hard to distinguish.

She stirred the contents of the frypan.

In her mind Leah toured the rest of the house. The bathroom was a disaster. The old claw foot bath was stained and beyond her capacity to clean it. The shower rose above it was rusted and ugly. The vinyl on the floor resembled that of the kitchen. It went on and on and while Leah contemplated the ugliness around her she recalled the modern home she had left.

The vegetables were done. The steak had stopped emitting liquid. Leah turned off the heat. She looked at the clock and saw that Damien was even later than the night before.

She sat at the table and thought about all the other things that were missing from this house. Her parent’s home had been filled with love and laughter. Everyone including her father had participated in helping out. Meal times had been noisy affairs where everyone had shared their day’s activities. The stories had been fun. They had brought them together. Leah wondered at first why her own home had not been the same. It hadn’t taken her long to see why it would never be. The occupants of this house didn’t have the same beliefs or needs. The occupants of this house didn’t have any communication.

At one point Leah had invited her parents to stay for a weekend. They had been eager to see where she had buried herself. They had been disappointed with the dilapidated state of the house and Leah had tried to brush it all aside telling them that there were plans to renovate. Damien had glared at her. He had remained silent until her parents had left but as their car had disappeared down the drive he had turned on her. There would be no new bathroom. The house was fine as it was. There was nothing else to say. Leah had been shocked at the venom in his voice. She had not seen that side to him before. And her parents had not so far had a return visit.

For her part Leah had not invited them back. Over the years she made excuses. She knew they didn’t believe her but she told them she was just as happy to visit them. It was good to get away. Damien didn’t go with her. He told her he was too busy. She thought it was because he didn’t like her dad but she didn’t honestly know. Damien was a man of few words who kept his thoughts to himself. After five years of marriage the joy, which Leah had brought with her, had gone and only an empty and sad silence remained.

The clock in the hall chimed seven. Leah wondered where Damien could be. As the drought had lingered he had often come home after his usual time but no matter time her arrived he still expected his meal to be served with the stubby and paper. He didn’t speak to her often. He never explained where he had been but she had come to expect nothing less. It hadn’t always been that way. In the beginning he had sat and told her about what happening on the farm. They had shared the news of the day. They had shared their lives. She wondered why it had all gone so sour. She had wondered why he had stopped being the man she had met, fallen in love with and married without a second thought.

The clock sounded again. It was eight o’clock. Leah pushed her hair from her face. She began to wonder if Damien had, had an accident. Perhaps he would not come home. In some ways she would be relieved because they would no longer have to pretend that they liked each other. There would be no need to stay together when there was nothing to stay together for. Over the past few months Leah had begun to think that perhaps Damien had another woman somewhere. You never knew with the quiet ones but she didn’t think that Damien was the type. At least the man she had married wasn’t the type but the man she now shared this house with wasn’t that man. She didn’t know him anymore. It came to her that their marriage was running a fine line to failure and Leah hated to think that she was failing something but in her heart she knew that it was only a matter of time before she would have to walk away and accept that she had failed.

She stood and walked to the stove and stirred the food. With a fork from the nearby drawer Leah began to taste the fare in the frypan. She realised that she was hungry and for a moment picked and ate. It was fatty and not good for anyone but it tasted good. Damien had once told her that he would eat what he liked and he would die when he was good and ready. It was typical of the Damien who he had become. When she had first met him he was so different.

When Leah had satisfied her hunger she wiped her mouth on the tea towel on the sink. She looked at it briefly and realised that it too needed a wash. I’ll wash it tomorrow she told herself and then rummaged in the cupboard for a lid to cover the food so that nothing would land in it. Damien wouldn’t be happy if he looked at his food and saw something crawling in it.

Turning away from stove at last Leah